


A Study in Relationship Dynamics

by Dombell



Category: Belldom - Fandom, Muse
Genre: BDSM, Belldom - Freeform, Domestic Discipline, Edging, Established Relationship, M/M, Orgasm Denial, Wow, thats a whole lot of stuff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-17
Updated: 2018-02-17
Packaged: 2019-03-19 16:06:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13707909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dombell/pseuds/Dombell
Summary: Kinda AU in that Matt and Dom lived together but in 2013 and that they have a home in Paris- which might actually be true but idk. (+Established relationship)WARNING: D/s S&M shitfest is what this is. Beware~~





	A Study in Relationship Dynamics

**Author's Note:**

> Pretentious title, I’m aware, but this is literally a BDSM pwp fic so lmaoooo.  
> It’s a… specific kinda taste, but what else is new with my fics :/

To see what Matt looks like in this fic click this link: [(x)](https://dombell.tumblr.com/post/170427581995)

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Matt fiddles with the thin chain around his neck as he gazes into the cloudy twilight sky. Shards of crystal raindrops fall to the dark pavement below, creating a cacophony of sound much like applause- a sound he’d been hearing plenty of lately. He could just barely make it out over the stereo. Matt focuses in on a raindrop near the edge of his window and wills it to hold on, only for the car to then lurch forward, throwing the drop violently into the wind.

The past few days had been painfully bleak, nothing entertaining or exciting Matt like they usually did. These mild depressive episodes occurred very rarely for him, but when they hit, they put a damper on everything.

The intro to ABBA’s Dancing Queen plays and Dom hums along enthusiastically.

He and Dom were heading back to their flat from the premiere of the “Live at Rome Olympic Stadium” video at _La Geode_. All three of them had gone on stage before the viewing to present the film and thank the fans, but Dom was the only one who spoke. Matt, of course, had _tried_ to add something, but Dom’s animated hand gestures had quickly trounced the effort.

Matt felt small, much unlike how he usually felt, and he was uncomfortable. To make matters worse, there just so happened to be an unusual amount of confidence radiating from his friend at the same time. With Dom practically glowing with self worth and significance, Matt had inadvertently shifted further into the submissive in order to better accommodate Dom’s large mental presence. It was awful.

The blonde was quite talkative during the trip home, Matt distractedly nodding and speaking shortly in response whenever appropriate.

Dom kept glancing at Matt when he could. He loved the way the man’s sweater sleeves ended right where his fingers began, making him appear youthfully delicate and his fingers even more thin than usual. He also made note of Matt’s body language- his legs pressed tensely together, his refusal to make eye contact, his fingers tapping restlessly against his thigh. Matt seemed unusually high-strung, which was saying something, and he was _obviously_ being bothered by something.

Dom coughs, “Matt?”

“Hm?”

“I love you.”

Matt lifts his head from its resting place on his hand and eyes Dom warily, but he can’t help the slight smile pulling at the corner of his mouth. Straight declarations of love were few and far between with them, and though they both knew it to be true, hearing the fact spoken aloud either marked a special occasion, or simply _was_ one in of itself.

“Where did that come from?” He asks, eyebrows knit together with his trademark frown.

Dom laughs at that.  
“I just do, that’s all.”

Matt turns his gaze back to his window again, but Dom could see his grin in the reflection of the glass. It’s getting dark out.  
Hoping to get him further loosened up before home, Dom reaches out to place his hand -in what he hopes is a reassuring gesture- on Matt’s thigh, who jumps at the sudden intimate contact, but doesn’t move otherwise. He can’t quite sort out his feelings at the moment, but makes no motion to stop Dom as his warm hand ventures up his inner leg.

Exhaling softly, Matt moves just so to welcome the both calming and exciting sensation. The hand stills and rests tantalizingly close to his crotch, but still Matt refuses to tear his face from the window.  
After several minutes, the comforting heat is replaced with cold air, and Matt realizes with a start that they’re already pulling into the driveway of their flat.

Shutting off the car, Dom practically leaps out and takes ahold of Matt’s hand. Without speaking, Dom leads him through the lessening rain, through the front door, and into the mudroom. They toe off their shoes and Dom hastily sheds his leather jacket.

Just as Matt is about to ask what exactly Dom was up to, he’s shoved against the wall with his hands pinned down by his sides. He had fairly expected a rough snogging, and squeezes his eyes shut in anticipation, but it doesn’t come.  
Dom suppresses a swoon at the sight of the absolutely stunning man in front of him. Matt’s eyes were both an adorable light baby blue _and_ a piercing electric azure all at once. He appears gentle and intense, and, with an accompanying slight tinge of guilt, Dom feels a strong urge to hurt him.  
He had long ago agreed with the speculation that crying has certain benefits to it and often feels that Matt doesn’t allow himself to partake in the cathartic activity often enough.

Matt opens his mouth to speak but is interrupted when Dom finally kisses him- softly at first, then deeply with a fist full of his feathery hair. Dom pulls hard and breaks away to watch Matt’s face contort in pain. He observes closely for any tell-tale signs that he should stop, but is met with naught but the submissive closing of Matt’s eyes, his lashes fluttering.  
Once satisfied, Dom dives back into the kiss and relishes the smooth, silky texture of Matt’s warm lips on his, this time feeling around under Matt’s grey sweater as he decides how best to proceed. One of his hands venture down to Matt’s arse, the boy breathing a small gasp at the touch.

“I think you need to be hurt,” Dom resolves.

“O- oh?” Matt makes quick eye contact before averting his gaze downwards.  
“Did I do something wrong?” He asks, cheekily- if only his voice weren’t so small.

Dom grabs Matt’s wrist and leads the way to their bedroom.  
“Well, no. You just seem like you’ve been needing it recently. Am I wrong?”

“I- I don’t know, er...” Matt follows closely behind Dom to avoid tripping and is ushered forcefully into their room, the door closing behind them. It’s just the two of them, alone, free from the the world’s scrutiny to do as they please.  
Dom stands silently across from Matt for a moment before speaking.

“I know you, Matt. I can tell when something is wrong,” he reasons.  
“You don’t seem like yourself recently and I want... If you want, I’d like to _help_ you.”

Matt stares at the floor and anxiously rubs the side of his face with a sleeved palm. An uncomfortable silence falls, as he’s evidently reluctant to answer.  
Dom grows impatient. He steps forward and grabs Matt’s wrist again, this time squeezing tight enough to hurt.

“Is something bothering you, Matthew?”

“...y- yeah, actually.”

“Then what is it?”  
The grip on Matt’s wrist tightens further and he winces, lowering his head as Dom moves his body to be flush against his own.  
Finally, Matt whispers, “I need catharsis.”

Dom’s heart flutters. This phrase has been understood between the pair to be a request in disguise. A request for discipline.

With controlled and consensual administration of pain (often subsequently sensual) comes a drastic release (or, “ _catharsis”_ ) from previously bottled negative emotions. It’s a true psychological cleansing. This sort of domestic discipline was the system they had adopted to keep the odd fight and disagreement to a minimum.  
Neither man could recall upon questioning exactly how this unorthodox arrangement of theirs began, but it _worked_ , so they let it be.

Dom can feel the boy’s heart racing through his sweater.

“Catharsis from what?”

Matt blinks once then replies, “This week.”  
His fingers can’t seem to stay still.  
“Things.. on stage and all... haven’t been going right recently, and I think it’s my own fault.”

“I’ve noticed that.”  
Dom gives an understanding nod.  
“So, you want help moving on, and to be punished for _needing_  help in the first place, then, is that it?”

Matt gulps and stares at Dom’s lips, just centimeters from his own.

“Yes. Please.”

“Alright.”  
Dom huffs and straightens his posture.  
“Hands on the bed.”

Matt lowers his gaze as he pads over to the bedside and places his hands firmly on the mattress. Dom comes in from behind and wraps his arms around Matt’s boyish waist. He shudders at the feeling of Dom’s body encasing him as his belt is slowly worked out from the loops of his trousers. Dom moves to the zipper, his fingers brushing Matt through the fabric of his boxers and prompting a small sigh. Dom steps away to retrieve a few things from the closet before continuing the process, and Matt turns to see.

“Keep your head down.”

Matt listens carefully to the shuffling of items being moved around from the walk-in closet, but he can’t pinpoint what exactly is being chosen. He hears Dom return, assumedly with supplies in hand, and his knees begin to tremble. Dom kneels behind Matt and strips him of the clothing below his waist, immediately sliding a girthy, lubed plug into him. Gasping, he leans away from the intrusion all the way to his toes, but the plug forces its way in anyway.  
Matt feels himself desperately trying adjust, the offensive thing resting unpleasantly against his spot without stimulating it.

With the plug now set firmly inside, Dom brings Matt’s clothing back up and takes a step back. He watches as Matt shifts, trying to get used to the sudden and intense feeling of being filled, his shoulders rising and falling dramatically with each breath.  
Eventually, the wriggling slows, and Dom gives him a gentle swat, making the plug pound right up against his spot. Matt inhales harshly at the foreign sensation.

Dom moves to Matt’s right and leans against the bed. He continues with what only just borders on what could be classified as a spanking, but the plug amplifies the effect tenfold. It’s so good, but in a horridly teasing and painful way, and Matt whimpers pathetically with each hit. On the seventh, he yelps loudly, jerking his hips inward then dropping to his knees, gripping the sheets. He was usually a better sub than this, but _this_ was too much for him to take all at once.  
Dom stands and clicks his tongue.

“Sorry,” Matt whispers, face hidden in the sleeves of his sweater.  
“I’m sorry.”

Dom pulls him up by the hair, sucking and nipping at Matt’s neck as he lifts the soft fabric of the man’s gray sweater up over his head of dark hair. Matt hisses as the cold chain makes contact with his bare chest, and looks to see what else Dom had brought from the closet.  
There’s the lube, a pair of cuffs, a dog leash, and a flogger with a long handle and several strips of thin leather curled beautifully on the bedside table.

Dom takes the pair of cuffs and closes them around Matt’s slender wrists. He bows his head and kisses each hand, stroking Matt’s long fingers with both of his thumbs before grabbing the dog leash.

Matt almost speaks then, confused as to why there was a leash with no collar, but his questions are answered when Dom pulls a chair to the center of the room to stand on and hangs an end of the leash over the heavy-duty hook protruding from the ceiling.  
The hook was _intended_ for a large birdcage. It had been installed by the previous owners and was completely worthless to them for a while after moving in, but they eventually found uses for it.

Matt watches, shirtless, cuffed, and plugged, as Dom pushes the chair away and gives the leash a firm tug to test its strength. Satisfied, Dom returns to the small shivering man ogling at his every movement, grabs him by the chain of his cuffs, and leads him right under the makeshift bondage setup. He then loops the other end of the leash through the cuff’s chain, pulling slack until Matt’s hands are raised just above his head then tying both loose ends together.

Dom moves away to sit down, sporting an unfitting grin on his face, and basks in the sight in front of him. Matt shifts his weight from side to side restlessly in a mild but constant mixture of discomfort and pleasure.  
After a few moments pass, Dom pulls a small box from his back pocket, and Matt’s eyes widen fearfully.

He switches the plug, now evidently a remote vibrator, to its lowest setting and Matt whines, knees buckling below him. He bounces cutely and pulls at his bonds in an attempt to be rid of the stimulation, but no matter what he did, the feeling would not relent.  
Dom hardens at the sounds of Matt’s whimpers and stands to get the flogger, pocketing the remote.

“Tell me why this is happening to you.”

Dom waltzes around to the area behind Matt with whip in hand, the sound of the boy’s soft moans his music.

“B- “ Matt swallows.  
“Because I deserve it?”

He cracks a practice swing against the bed and Matt tenses up. He hears a small sob of fear and smiles wickedly.

“That’s right,” Dom says.  
“Green for go, yellow for wait, and red for stop. Got it?”  
Previously discussed safewords. Just in case.

“Yes, sir!”

Dom handles the leather strips of the whip and positions himself behind Matt, who rests his head against his forearms, silently begging for the punishing strikes to come sooner.

Everything goes still, and at last, it starts.

It’s light at first, each stroke in fairly quick succession, and Matt’s shoulder blades twitch as the dull thud transforms into a pleasant sting. He can’t close his mouth by the fourth stroke, and his cock presses eagerly against his boxers.  
With his fly still undone and no belt, the bulge is embarrassingly obvious.

Meanwhile, Dom focuses on holding a steady back-and-forth pace. He had earlier found this sort of task to be significantly easier when keeping the beat of a good song in his head.  
**Thwack** , two, **Thwack** , four.  
**Thwack** , two, **Thwack** , four.  
He won’t be able to hear the the drum track of their very own Hysteria the same way again.

After a good several minutes, Dom stops. Matt’s faintly toned upper back is tinted pink and his legs wobble. Shaking himself back into reality, Dom takes the remote out again and sets the vibe to its middle setting, Matt squeaking and twisting his hips violently out of reflex.

“This what you need?”  
He just _had_ to hear more of Matt’s voice while he was like this.

“Yes. Yes sir,” Matt says, evidently struggling to speak steadily.

“Tell me how it feels.”  
Dom gives Matt’s quivering arse a hard thwack through his trousers and Matt bucks away with a loud yelp.  
He breathes once to calm himself before huffing amusedly.

“It hurts.”

Another thwack to the rear.

“Good,” Dom says as he saunters back around to Matt’s front.  
“Where are you?”

Matt lifts his head inquisitively for a moment at the change in Dom’s tone and the gentleness of the hand caressing his face before he lowers his gaze again in understanding.

“Green.”

Dom places a quick peck to Matt’s cheek before falling back into his role. He drags the whip’s tails up Matt’s torso and continues his rhythmic swings. The blows land across Matt’s near-concave chest and stomach, each one connecting with a delightful smack and a tiny noise from Matt.  
Aside from stubbornly hiding his face behind his suspended forearms, Matt takes it well, but the whipping gets more intense with time. Eventually, he’s whimpering loudly and involuntarily leaning back in time with the lashes, lessening the power behind each one.

“Quit dodging or we’ll stop right now.”

“S- _uh_ sorry,” he whispers.

The last several are aimed explicitly at Matt’s chest so the leather could properly lick at his sensitive nipples before moving on. Matt fights the urge to flinch away.

Returning to the back, Dom grips and peels down the remainder of Matt’s modesty and begins to bring the flogger down over the plug. The sound of harsh leather against flesh pierces the air, and Matt‘s cock twitches freely.  
The unyielding sensations of the flogging, the vibrating plug, and the forceful movements of said plug inside of him combined nearly sickened Matt with rich, brutal pleasure. Despite this, he opts for (albeit barely maintained) silence, obediently arching his back to present himself for proper thrashing.

Dom beams sadistically at Matt’s display and makes his way around to the front yet again, not once ceasing with the whip.  
Once inches away from Matt’s face, he drags the flogger over Matt’s length and kisses his gaping mouth, closing it with his own. He gives Matt’s cock a few tugs before experimentally flicking the whip down over it. Matt keeps his feet planted to the floor even as he throws his head back from Dom’s face and screams.

“That’s right, Matt. Let it all out.”

The taller man turns the vibe up to the final setting and tosses the remote to the bed. Past the point of fighting, Matt simply groans, shakily bending his knees before stilling himself in defeat.  
Dom hits him all over, placing extra strokes to his chest, a few to his bobbing erection, and plenty to his taut, reddening arse. Matt cries, tears finally falling from the intensity of it all.

It goes on for an eternity.  
Then it’s over.

Dom jogs over to the bed and shuts off the vibe, to which Matt grunts in both thanks and frustration, seeing as he was still sitting horribly on edge. He advances towards Matt’s writhing body and wraps his arms gently around the man to pull on the plug tentatively. It comes out with little effort, Dom dropping the thing to the floor to be dealt with later, and Matt rests his head on Dom’s shoulder. He exhales a long, wavering sigh.

Dom walks away, planting himself in the same chair as before, and rests.  
Here, with Matt teetering on orgasm but unable to do anything to push himself over, was the worst of the scene so far. This, mixed with his exposing position and Dom’s eyes glued to him, was uncomfortable to say in the least, and Matt begins to struggle against his restraints.

Finally, Dom speaks.  
“You’re not coming tonight.”

“W- what?” Matt sputters.

“I’ll let you tomorrow.”

“ ** _What_**?”

Dom crosses his legs.  
“You heard me.”

Matt nearly screams for him to touch him, or at least let him go, but the masochistic freak inside of him remained intrigued by the notion.  
Matt doesn’t speak.

“You understand me? If you touch yourself without permission after I’ve let you down, you will be punished.”

Matt sniffs pathetically but nods, wiping his tears with an arm.

“Alright,” Dom says, standing from his seat.

He carefully avoids Matt’s cock as he dresses him back up and, and taking advantage of Matt’s position before it was all over, Dom grabs his bare waist and buries his nose in the crook of Matt’s neck. He places gentle, open mouthed kisses all over Matt while his arms move upwards and untie the knot in the leash. He grabs Matt’s wrists and unclasps the cuffs with a final peck to the lips before breaking away to pick up all the discarded toys.

Matt quietly walks to the bed and lies down painfully, neglecting to put on his sweater, just as Dom flips the TV to a random channel. He tries desperately to forget his unrelieved arousal as Dom removes his own shirt and crawls up comfortably next to him.  
Matt turns on his side and rests his head on Dom’s chest, Dom resting his hand in the head of messy, chocolate, baby-soft hair in front of him.

Matt looked absolutely feral.  
His eyes were glazed over, but sharper, his cheeks were flushed, his body was littered with red patches of tender, abused skin, and he had this post-cry glow that both struck Dom with a pang of guilt and rocked his world to the core.  
Most adorably of all, this state made Matt cuddly to the point of being comparable to a clingy child.

Dom sighs.  
“I fucking love how you are when you’re _like this_ , Matt, but if you really want, yo-”

“No.”

Dom nuzzles into Matt’s soft head of hair and breathes deeply, relishing the scent.

“Thank you,” Matt says.

He chuckles softly.  
“You really are a strange one, to be thankful after _that_.”

He feels Matt smile against his chest.

“Maybe.”

“Well, I hope you’re prepared by morning,” Dom says with a suggestive lilt.

Matt hums amusedly.

The TV drones on.


End file.
